Good Deed
by XiahouDun84
Summary: The Joker decides to do a good deed.


It's a Wednesday morning...nearly noon...and the sun is shining abnormally bright for Gotham City.

Usually, the skies above Gotham are dulled and desaturated with a haze of gray and brown smog...when not completely shrouded by angry red and black clouds promising wet misery, that is...adding to the warm and juicy urban decay atmosphere that is oh-so such a trademark of our fair town, it may as well be advertised in tourist brochures.

Frankly, such weather makes me feel alive. There's an energy in the air under those skies. The kind you feel when you can just sense something...well, **something** is going to happen. Usually something messy. But only the right kind of people thrive on it. People like me...for you see, oh my brothers, I am enlightened.

But the cheery, crystal clear sky on this Wednesday morning...nearly noon...I have to admit, I find vaguely unsettling. A happy sky in Gotham City? It's a bizarre dichotomy...like a Nazi soldier wearing a smiley face pin. Or a Klansman holding a "Give Peace a Chance" sign.

How droll.

I suppose it was the out-of-the-ordinary atmosphere of the day that sparked this impulse in me. I suppose it would explain why I've been driving around Gotham City in broad daylight searching for a crowded diner that sells milkshakes. For you see, my friends and readers, on this day...I am going to do a good deed.

I bob and weave along Gotham's crowded streets...making absolutely no effort at all to conceal myself. People would call that crazy, but I believe that vast majority of the time, anyone who happens to spot me merely puzzles _Did I just see the Joker? THE Joker? Nah, it couldn't have been him._ and go on stuffing their faces with pretzels or bagels or whatever salty baked goods they buy from the street venders.

I find the perfect spot on the corner of Fifth and Kane, downtown. And oh, it's a beaut. Exactly what I wanted. A counter...and long line...people of all ages (wait, is there no school today..?) and the clincher: milkshakes. I abruptly swerve into the nearest spot, cutting off some jerk who was trying to get in ahead of me. He responds to my reckless and rude driving with talk of my mother while waving his middle finger about.

My rebuttal is a simple smile. He recognizes me. And I've no doubt he pissed his pants right then and there. It is a nice day after all.

I check myself in the rear-view mirror before making my move. For you see, my brothers and sisters, appearances are crucial in my business. No one gave a rat's ass about the Huntress until she started wearing that outfit that showed off her midriff. And I do have to grant her...it takes some brass to run around like that, especially considering I myself planted a couple of bullets in said midriff. I admire a woman with bigger balls than most men.

I check the mirror, and I have to say...I look good. I haven't gotten much sleep in the past few weeks...going through a little insomnia phase...creating dark bags under my eyes which, contrasting the whiteness of me face, looks fan-damn-tastic. My hair spikes in multiple directions, which looks neat in a messy sort of way. One green eye, one red eye...which I've discovered makes most people very unsettled. And really, at the end of the day, that's what it's all about.

Always keep 'em on their toes.

That aside, it's time to take care of what I came here for. I enter the diner like a cowboy entering a saloon in some old western. The entire place goes dead silent upon my entrance. Even the jukebox...or maybe it's a radio...seems to lower in my presence. Almost immediately, I can hear someone in the diner start to cry. I wonder if it's me, or the prices these days?

I casually walk to the end of the line, where I find a rotund man standing. As I approach, his eyes widen more and more with each step. The funny thing is, he's much bigger than I am. Were I any other person, this man could probably beat the hell out of me. And yet here we are, in this utterly beautiful moment. I tell him that I hate to be one "those" people, but request that I may skip him in line; for I am in a terrible rush (which is a lie, but it makes the story better).

The line parts like the Red Sea, and I tell my fellow patrons I am much obliged. I stroll to the counter, where I find a girl who can't be much older than twenty, staring at me as though she just saw me eat a live kitten's head. Her name tag claims her name is "Tina." I tell "Tina" I am seeking a large milkshake. Vanilla, with only a bit of chocolate mixed in.

_I am the god of hellfire! And I bring you..._

As if on cue, an old song from the sixties called "Fire" by The Crazy World of Arthur Brown plays. It's an amusingly upbeat song about fire and destruction that I find pleasantly fitting. The tension mounts, as I remind "Tina" that I would like my milkshake.

_You fought hard and you saved and earned...but all of it's gone to burn..._

"Tina" is sweating profusely, and looks to be on the verge of crying. Luckily, her mind continues to function on what I'm guessing is some sort of primal survival instinct, because she stiffly begins to go about making my milkshake. While I wait, I casually look around the diner. All eyes locked on me. Mothers shielding their children as though I'm going to start spewing napalm from my arse.

"Tina" hands me my milkshake and I ask how much it costs. She mumbles $2.50 at me. For her performance, I give her a five, and tell her to keep the change with a wink. That was worth a tip. I turn and take a sip from my milkshake as "Fire" on the jukebox...or radio...starts reaching a pitch:

_You're going to burn...burn....burn...BURN....BURN...._

I note how much I like this song and compliment "Tina" on a damn fine milkshake before heading out the door. Behind me, I can almost hear the entire diner...probably the building itself, too...let out a collective fart of relief. I laugh and return to me car and am on my way.

For every single man, woman, and child in that diner, the rest of this day will be the most beautiful day of their lives. Their meals will taste sweeter than any I can ever know. "Tina" will probably be commended for her grace under pressure and maybe even get a raise or "Employee of the Month." They will have a story to tell their friends over beers. They will hold their loved ones a little closer and if just for a little while before the experience passes, their lives will perfect.

I did all that. And all I did was buy a milkshake.

**End**


End file.
